Dragon Emperor's Night

Naming six others was easier said than done, as Aerion would soon realise. Naming a Queen of Love and Beauty usually meant that you had intentions of courting said lady… so, naturally, whoever he named would be emboldened in a way (apart from his mother).

House Martell's spectators were all close to Aerion's own seat, of course. No one could ever doubt the bond between the current House Targaryen and House Martell which had served as Aerion's shield during the time he was growing his wings.

"Arianne, I name you my first lady of beauty and love." Aerion lowered a second laurel through his lance onto Arianne Martell's lap. "Rain might fall, strong winds may collapse entire castles and floods may drown out the world... but so long as you smile,

the sun in the sky will ever be so radiant. Lady Arianne of House Martell, you are the love of my life and I fear that I could not do without you. As such… it is my desire to make you my wife and Queen."

"He has my blessing, without a doubt." Doran Martell remarked, smiling with joy.

"I am yours and you are mine." Arianne Martell nodded, accepting his marriage proposal without hesitation. ""That short poem was really sweet of you, my beloved."

"It was my first try." Aerion chuckled a little. "Maybe I should start playing the harp and singing songs like my father?"

"Arianne would not be able to fend off all your admirers if you did, Your Grace." Oberyn remarked with a jestful tone. "They would swarm you like flies and never leave."

"Haha… then I'd best avoid that predicament."

Aerion did not ride far… moving his horse right by a few steps. House Targaryen's seats were right next to House Martell's, naturally. He picked up his third laurel with his lance and placed it at Daenery's lap.

"There is no beauty in the world quite like that of the blood of the dragon." Aerion remarked, smiling as he did so. Observing the princess' expression, he did not expect her to be quite so flushed by his act.

"I… thank you for this honour. It will not be something that I'll forget."

"You've earned it." Aerion nodded.

Grabbing his fourth laurel, he rode back left to where Ashara Dayne sat and granted her the honour of lady of love and beauty.

"I do not recall a moment when you did not look beautiful, auntie."

Smelling the laurels, she looked rather pleased. "You look quite beautiful yourself, Your Grace. Could this be your way of announcing that you intend to court me?"

Although her tone was playful and in a jesting manner, there was a hint of truth behind it. Aerion saw through it, although he was caught off-guard. For several moments, he did not know how to reply.

"If the lady Ashara would be willing to dance with me, I would not object." Aerion replied simply, not suggesting too much but not rejecting her either.

"Then I will see you afterwards."

Ashara's charming smile made Aerion Targaryen feel some type of way, inciting a flame of desire in his heart. He had not felt quite so tempted to be unfaithful since the red woman visited him. There was something about distinct features like purple eyes and fire-kissed hair that he found hard to resist… no, it wasn't just that. He had realised that he had a 'thing' for beautiful women who were older than himself.

Arianne, Ashara, Cersei…

Though, to be fair, he wasn't exactly old himself so the pool of younger women he could choose from was not exactly deep. As a matter of fact, only girls born in the third moon of 280 AC to early 281 AC would qualify as women younger than himself (16). Anything younger than that was a girl, of course.

His fifth laurel went to Margaery Tyrell, whom he fancied a little. She was a sweet and intelligent girl, no doubt, and had a kinder point of view than he did which would be useful in certain matters. Mace Tyrell was overjoyed to have his daughter receive such an honour and so was the lady Margaery herself.

The sixth… was when Aerion started to struggle.

There were plenty of options, of course, but he wanted to choose someone worthy of his attention. Not wishing to waste too much time idling, he made a quick decision and rode to where House Lannister was gathered. When Aerion didn't ride past and stopped, Tywin Lannister was certainly surprised… intrigued, even. He saw an opportunity as the laurel fell onto Cersei Lannister's lap. Although it was the sixth laurel, it still held great significance behind it.

The Dragon Emperor's favour was as prestigious and high as the heavenly sky, after all.

"Edmure was a fortunate man - in some ways." Aerion remarked, feeling rather conflicted. There, too, was a desire but he knew that there would be regret and a feeling of guilt afterwards…

Cersei Lannister considered herself worthy of being named the Queen of Love and Beauty and so, she felt as if it were a slight on Aerion's behalf. Although, given her infatuation with the thought of the Dragon Emperor, she was able to move past it.

"We did not finish what we started in Riverrun, Your Grace. This gift… however, more than rectifies your abrupt leave."

"I'm… glad to hear that." Aerion Targaryen replied in a courteous manner, taking the last laurel.

He rode further ahead, where House Stark and House Baratheon sat united - almost as one. Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark were the closest of friends while also being bound by marriage ties due to Lyanna Stark so this was no surprise. When he stopped, there were so many mixed expressions that Aerion found the whole ordeal amusing.

As he stood still, the crowd grew rowdy with controversy.

The relations between House Targaryen and those two houses weren't exactly pretty, having been on opposing sides ever since Robert's Rebellion. Some elders felt like they were seeing the Tourney of Harrenhal once more, albeit a more peaceful and grander version of it. Technically speaking, Aerion could easily abolish Robert Baratheon's marriage to Lyanna Stark as he was a member of his Kingsguard now. Some people even thought that he'd follow in the steps of his father and name her…

Yet, they did not know that Aerion wasn't fond of Lyanna Stark. She was the homewrecker in his eyes - along with his own father.

"What are you waiting for?" Jocelyn Baratheon asked, breaking the silence.

"The sweet calling of Winter." Aerion replied in a nonchalant manner, although his expression grew sad afterwards. "I've never seen Snow, for that matter…"

"There's plenty up North, don't you worry."

"Hmm… I'm sure there is. I'd like to perform a royal progress in the North, in truth. Would you have me, Lord Eddard?"

"Well… that would make the northern lords see you in a different light, Your Grace. Not many are fond of Targaryens."

"No Targaryen King has visited Winterfell since Jaehaerys Targaryen, the first of his name." Jocelyn Baratheon added.

"And that's what I taught you." Aerion smiled. "Well, history has a way of repeating itself, doesn't it?"

Robert Baratheon and Artos furrowed their brows as Aerion's seventh laurel slowly fell into Lyanna Stark's lap… until he flipped it into the air.

"Just kidding."

It flew up slightly to the left, landing perfectly on Jocelyn's head. Lyanna Stark chuckled a little... expecting as much.

"The most willful child of the year reward goes to Princess Jocelyn of House Baratheon." Aerion jested.

"Wow... since I'm the seventh, doesn't that make me extra special?" Jocelyn was rather cheerful as she raised a question, ignoring the willful child of the year remark.

"Sure... you certainly weren't a last resort."

"Rude." Jocelyn countered, pouting a little. "You know, I'll grow up into a beautiful woman someday and you'll be head over heels for me, just you see!"

"Hahahahaha..." Aerion couldn't help but laugh at Jocelyn's response. "You can't be serious, Jocelyn. You are my ward and I am five years your senior... hmph, I'm guessing that's just a bad joke on your part."

"... You never take me seriously." Jocelyn Baratheon muttered under her breath.

"Speak a little louder, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said nothing!"

"... Girls." Aerion sighed, shaking his head. "I sincerely hope my first child is a son."

"The most wilful child of the year is a fitting title for my dear sister." Artos Baratheon chuckled as he glanced at his younger sister.

"Who told you to speak, Prince 'I tried to assassinate someone but got lectured by my target instead'." Jocelyn Baratheon shook her head in a mocking manner.

"Assassinate?" Lyanna Stark turned to her son with a glaring, rather frightening, motherly look. "Explain..."

"Uhmm..." Artos would've chided his sister if neither parent were present but... they both were, especially his mother. The prince was in a tight spot, to say the least.

Even his uncle, Lord Eddard, glanced at him with a complex expression.

"It was nothing but a game, I can assure all of you." Aerion smiled as he effectively saved Artos Baratheon and dissolved the building tension. "Artos had a real sword for immersive purposes, although he never cut me with it."

"..." Artos Baratheon looked at Aerion in a different light once again. "His Grace is saying the truth... we were just playing around."

"Mhm... I will trust the word of the Dragon Emperor." Lyanna Stark stated although she wasn't fully convinced.

"You just got saved like a fish out of water that got thrown back in." Jocelyn Baratheon observed. "My elder brother should learn more thankful."

"And my sister should learn to seal her tongue at times... ow!"

Robert Baratheon placed his palm on Artos' head and put some force into it, although not too much. "Enough."

"...Sorry, father."

"Stop arguing, the both of you." Lyanna Stark reprimanded the two. "It's unsightly, particularly before the presence of His Grace."

"To have siblings is a great fortune..." Aerion remarked, seeing no issue with it. Seeing the bond between Artos and Jocelyn made him joyous, sorrowful and envious all at once. "I'll be going now."

After riding away, Aerion Targaryen looked towards the crowd.

"Who's willing to celebrate the end of the Great Tournament with me!?"

"AYE!"

"YESSS!"

"WOOO!"

After hearing countless cheers, Aerion Targaryen dismounted and personally led quite the entourage to the Great Hall of the Red Keep. Outside, a good majority of the city had gathered to see him off. Even a short glance at the Dragon Emperor was a blessing to many...

~

All of the lords and ladies had gathered in the Great Hall to celebrate the end of the Great Tournament, Aerion's triumphs, all seven honoured ladies, his upcoming nameday, the coronation that would follow and even marriage to Arianne Martell. It was a blissful evening full of smiles, laughter and praises - most of which was reserved for the Dragon Emperor.

"Cheers to the most faithful servant of the Seven!" Viserys raised his cup in honour of Aerion, although he was a little sarcastic. "May he be blessed with seven beautiful wives!"

"... I pray every day in my bedchambers." Aerion smiled in turn, accepting Viserys' jest. He grabbed Arianne by the waist, who was standing by his side, and made her sit on his lap. He took deep breath and took in all her fragrance, smirking afterwards.

"The Realm would do well with a wonderful heir, wouldn't it, my Queen?"

"I do like the sound of that." Arianne Martell nodded, feeling rather hot. Tournaments did get the blood of many going, especially when the victor is your lover.

"Perhaps, my King would wish to retire to his bedchambers a little earlier..."

"Arianne... you said you wished to test my mettle earlier, didn't you?" Aerion whispered in Arianne's ear, his voice more soothing than silk. "What if I wanted Lady Ashara to join us..."

"You lustful demon..." Arianne smiled, caressing his head close to her chest. "One Dornish lady isn't enough?"

"My raging heart burns with desire for more..." Aerion bit her ear playfully, seducing his lady further.

"You may bed her... but only if she shares." Arianne Martell indulged Aerion's request.

"I love you the most, Arianne." He kissed her on the cheek.

...

After gaining the green light to go, the great Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen would display his immaculate courting skills to Lady Ashara and work towards taking her heart (figuratively, of course).

Robert Baratheon's statement on Aerion being incapable of 'making the Eight' was sheer folly simply because he can take any woman he wanted by sheer charm. Frankly, the only thing that kept the ladykiller at bay was the potential emergence of bastard, unwanted, children and his loyalty to Arianne.

Aerion accepted Lady Ashara's hand, engaging in an elegant dance afterwards. The musicians upped their efforts, leading to a wonderous atmosphere. There was certainly some controversy as Aerion Targaryen had proposed to Lady Arianne just that same afternoon... yet she herself did not seem bothered. After all, it was just a dance.

"Come with me and I'll show you the largest treasure in the land." Aerion Targaryen whispered in Ashara Dayne's ear, making her laugh a little.

"Then I'd like to see it."

"You have a good son." Lyanna Stark remarked as she joined Elia Martell's side. "Kind and caring to those close to him - yet he has a ruthless edge to him that disobedient men dread. He knows the value of certain men, sparing them for the greater good of his Realm. Rhaegar... would've been proud of the King that his son has become."

"..." Elia Martell did not reply, ignoring Lyanna Stark completely.

"If fate would have it, our houses will one day be bound by marriage." Lyanna Stark stated, attempting to make better relations. "We should do our part and avoid making matters more difficult for them."

"Fortunately, that will not happen," Elia replied rather coldly. "Aerion does care for your girl but he will never love her."

"... You might be his mother, but the mothers of Kings are known to be powerless when their son is dead set on something. Perhaps not yet, but with time... I can see their sweet bond, that of an elder brother to his little sister, turning into something deeper than that."

"Would you stand in his way if that day ever came?"

After leaving some food for thought, Lyanna Stark departed. Elia Martell's expression was... complicated, to say the least.

~

The White Sword Tower, the fourth floor.

(Lemon time...)

Aerion Targaryen had taken both Ashara Dayne and Arianne Martell on quite the adventure before sitting both of them down in the Lord Commander's quarters. With both of them in such a position, Aerion found it difficult to restrain his inner Dornish hot-bloodedness.

Not that he had to any longer...

"I may not be a priest, but I can show you the way to heaven."

"Then go on and show me..." Ashara Dayne replied.

Removing his shirt, he decided to play with his food first as he descended onto the bed like a praying wolf. His lips lustfully travelled across Ashara Dayne's neck and added further oil to the fire.

"Oh~... I want you to kiss every inch of my body, Aerion..."

Ashara Dayne moaned as Aerion Targaryen was relentless yet well-paced. Once he was done, his hand firmly grabbed one of her breasts while the other caressed her face. His tongue eventually sneaked in and wrapped itself around Ashara Dayne's in a fierce fashion. The two exchanged a passionate french kiss, one that made Arianne glare in envy.

"Hoarding himself to yourself, are you?" Arianne Martell moved Ashara out of the way and pushed Aerion down.

"Hahaha..." Aerion laughed a little as Arianne was now on top of him. In one swift motion, he flipped around their positions so that he was the one sitting up. Then, digging his claws, he undressed the love of his life. She did the same, unsealing and lowering his paints; revealing a 'dragon' indeed.

"Is this the sword that Lady Arianne has been relishing?" Ashara Dayne observed, biting her lip in slight envy and even greater desire. "It's even bigger than I expected..."

Arianne sat up a little, presenting herself on all fours. "And I will be receiving it first."

"Tsk, tsk... ladies, there's plenty of dragon seed for everyone," Aerion smirked as he removed the last of Arianne's clothing and shoved his cock right inside, giving little to no warning.

"Ah~... not... feeling gentle?" Arianne asked, although she wasn't exactly complaining.

"I know my Lady Arrianne likes it rough..." Aerion smiled, grabbing her thick black hair as he retraced and went inside even deeper than before. All the while, Ashara Dayne took advantage of his vacant tongue - continuing their own love-making.

Escalating to his own climax, Aerion Targaryen's pace increased with every stroke as Arianne Martell lost sight of herself in the feeling of being relentlessly humped by her beautiful and strong lover.

"Fuck! I want all of you, everything... have your way with me... violate me... ravage me like a wild beast!"

"Then a wild beast you will have!"

Aerion raised Arianne up a little as both of his hands firmly grasped both of her large breasts. His movements were more forceful as he was nearing his climax...

"Ahhh...!" Arianne moaned loudly, having reached her climax and came. However, Aerion was not finished when Arianne's legs waned. Instead, he pushed her down and went all in once more.

"Give me an heir... Arianne!"

"... Ah... I'll take... all of your... seed..."

"Here I come...!"

After releasing his seed within Arianne, he turned to Ashara Dayne who had been left out for the most part. It was then that she pushed him down and gracefully took his cock for herself, enveloping it in her warm mouth and tongue.

"Woah... that's... good." He remarked in awe.

"I'm going to ride you until Dawn after." Ashara Dayne smiled seductively as her lips traced across the length of his recovering sword.

"It would be one of the better ways to spend a night," Aerion remarked, recognising the reference to Ser Arthur's sword.

~

'The prince is enjoying his youth, I see.' Jaime Lannister, after hearing all of the loud noises in his apartments, chuckled a little. 'In my office too, the wild boy...'

He felt envious as his own love life was... complicated. In truth, he longed for a lover of his own yet he didn't know who or where to look for it. The only person he knew was his sister, Cersei Lannister... and he wasn't quite so keen to go after her.

So... he spent the night alone drinking in the Great Hall. Well, relatively alone... there were still people around. The other Kingsguard were either patrolling or having talks of their own.

"Ser Jaime, you seem a little too down for a man who came second in the Grand Joust," Viserys remarked, having stayed behind. "What's wrong?"

"... Prince Viserys, have you ever longed for love but been unable to find it?"

"Pfft." Viserys Targaryen spat out some of his drink. "You, struggling with love? You're amongst the most handsome men around."

"It is not as simple as you make it sound." Jaime Lannister replied, frowning a little.

"Tell Aerion you're struggling and he'll find you a nice lady, I swear it." Viserys chuckled, tapping his shoulder. "Or I might, for that matter. You're a noble knight... the noblest in all of the Realm for all your heroics, in my opinion. Someone like you deserves happiness and plenty of it."

"... I would not object to trying."

"It's not 'I would not object'... you have to actively seek it out if you want it, Ser Jaime. Through those efforts, after some time, I'm most certain you'll find the most suitable and delightful flower for yourself." Viserys gave sound advice as he drank some more wine himself. "If you wish, I'll be your friend for tonight. It's not like I have a lady of my own to bed either... hahaha!"

Jaime Lannister smiled a little. "Sure, I'll entertain the notion."